


A Really Complicated Way of Saying ‘Hey, Get on my Boat’

by verfound



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Moana (2016)
Genre: An Abundance of Bobs, Gen, Soundtrack Outtakes, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9190508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: After a thousand years, it was going to take some convincing to get the people of Motunui back on the sea.  (Or: in which Moana sings a song to explain her plan for Motunui and Has Never Seen That Kid Before.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Post-film; a little bit of crackfic. So I just love the outtakes on the soundtrack, ok? And I need them to be things. And I figured I still owed y’all something that wouldn’t rip your hearts out. Aaaand, kind of as an additional disclaimer, most of the tale/song is directly from “Unstoppable” (with slight alterations to fit the final film/shenanigans). Also, my not-so-closet RSC fan went a bit nuts with the Bob joke. I’m apologizing in advance, but I like to think Adam, Reed, and Austin would be proud. C;

“Don’t look so nervous.”

 

She jumped as her mother’s hand landed on her shoulder, and she turned away from the curtain to smile weakly at her.  The village dancers milled around the room, speaking in hushed, excited voices as they prepared for the performance.  Everyone involved in the project was so excited, but Moana was…

 

“Nervous?  Psh-ah.  I am _not_ nervous,” she said easily, turning back to the curtain and peeking out at the blazing bonfire the other villagers were gathering around.  They seemed just as excited as the dancers.  After all, Moana had been gone longer than she had initially thought – months, actually.  They had thought her dead.  And then she’d returned, miraculously, claiming the sea was once again safe - but without exactly sharing how.  She had told her parents and the elders, of course, but how to explain her journey – her hopes for Motunui – without making them all think she was crazy?  So she had promised an explanation at the feast the village was planning to celebrate her return, which was lavish enough that it took a week to organize.  And she knew her people: they were proud, and fierce, but…stubborn.  Fearful.  She knew it would take something spectacular to convince them of her plans.  Something…she looked back to her mother, uncertain.  “Why?  Do I look nervous?”

 

“You have done the impossible, Moana,” Sina said, her voice holding the confidence Moana wished so desperately to possess at that moment.  Her mother’s hand moved to the back of her neck, and she pressed their foreheads and noses together.  “You will lead them, and they will follow you.  You will make our people great again.”

 

“We have always been great, Mother,” Moana said.  The pride in her people shone through, making her feel bolder than she thought she actually was.  She looked back to the fire, to the excited faces dancing in the light, and felt taller.  Stronger.  “We just maybe forgot a little bit of it along the way.”

 

Sina laughed, hugged her, and moved away to speak with her father.  Last minute preparations and all that, Moana was sure.  She took a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes.  She could do this.  She was ready.

 

– V –

 

In the end, it had been her father’s idea.

 

Her first night back had been a long one, and the majority of it had been spent with the elders recounting her tale of the voyage to and from Te Fiti.  Yes, she had stolen one of the hidden canoes and crossed the reef.  Yes, she had found Maui.  What was he like?  …insufferable.  Yes, he had taught her to sail, to wayfind.  Yes, they had restored the heart of Te Fiti.  Yes, the seas were safe again.  Why was that relevant?  Well, didn’t they want to get back out there?

 

The first step had been convincing – ok, _reminding_ – the elders, especially her father, that they had a long, proud tradition as wayfinders.  They belonged on the sea, not bound to one solitary island.  Didn’t they feel the call, too?  Didn’t they want to explore?  To expand?

 

After many grumbled sidebars and hesitant looks from some of the more wizened members of the council, it was decided.  The elders would stay, but – if Moana could convince the rest of the village, they would not stop them from leaving.  Moana was to be their chief, after all, and they believed in her.  They would follow where she led.  Whoever was willing to leave Motunui would be free to accompany her to the sea, assuming she could convince – _remind_ – the people, as well  She was struggling on the _how_ , however, until her father had disrupted the otherwise tense meeting with a laugh.

 

“If only your Gramma Tala was still here,” he had said.  “This would have made a great story for her.  Her flair for the dramatic always seemed just the thing to convince the people of these crazy ideas.”

 

The rest seemed easy after that, because really…her people were one of stories.  Of history.  Of song.  What better way to remind them of their heritage than to tell them the legends Gramma Tala had so carefully, lovingly passed down?

 

Her father was speaking.  She could hear his voice falling over the silenced crowd and knew it was time.  The drums started, and she felt a hand grasp her shoulder.  Lulu, a friend she had grown up with and one of Motunui’s more prominent dancers, was grinning behind her.  Kalama was bouncing on her feet next to her.

 

“Good luck, Moana!” Lulu whispered, nodding from her to the curtain.

 

“We believe in you!” Kalama added, clapping her hands together.  “Oh, this is so exciting!”

 

They left the wharenui, the dancers fanning out around her before she moved to take her place in the center.  She took one last calming breath before she looked up at the waiting faces of her people.  She could do this.

 

“People of Motunui!” she called, as if she needed to direct them to attention.  All eyes were already focused on her.  “Hear our story!”

 

She glanced behind her, where Tui stood proud.  He nodded, and the song began.

 

“Abandoned by his parents and raised by the gods, who could see he was destined for greatness, though he was no bigger than you or me as a baby.  He was a demigod!” she cried out, and a collective gasp went through her people as one of the men threw some fuel on the bonfire, causing it to leap dramatically with her song.  She schooled her features, trying not to smile.  She had to remain in character, she thought.  Gramma Tala’s tales were always the more terrifying when she contorted her features to make them seem so.  “With lightning speed!  And he gave our people all the things we need – yes, indeed!”

 

She bent closer to her audience, giving them a grin as she lowered herself to the ground and continued, “We were crawling on the ground.  He looked around and said, ‘You need a little more space!’  And he raised the sky!”  She shot up, hands raised towards the night as she moved with the dancers.  “So we could walk, so we could fly!”

 

Her people knew this tale.  The legend of Maui, the accounts of his great deeds for man, were some of the first histories learned by the young of the island.  The others joined in her song, echoing the tale.  The torches were suddenly extinguished, and the villagers gasped again as her voice rang out clear and strong: “We were walking in the dark ‘til Maui found a spark down in the Underworld!”

 

Delighted cheers rang out as the dancers twirled around the torches, relighting them and casting Moana in a brilliant glow.  It wasn’t as impressive as she would have liked – she was too close to the bonfire to insure that – but the effect was still there.  She remembered how Gramma Tala had rigged the curtains in the wharenui, how she had been so amazed as a young girl at the sudden light when they would rise and allow her grandmother to be seen again.  _Showmanship, baby,_ a crabby voice crooned in her mind.

 

“He climbed up higher and higher, bringing the gift of fire!” Moana sang, taking a torch from one of the men standing just behind the circle of dancers,  She twirled and leapt, passing the torch along from dancer to dancer as they again echoed the tale.  The torch was passed back to her before she tossed it into the bonfire.  The flames leapt up, roaring at the addition.  (If she hadn’t been so consumed with the story, she might have wondered at that.  How was it such a small torch could make the larger flame crackle so magnificently?)

 

“When Maui was around, we were unstoppable!” she continued, beaming at her people.  They were soaking it up – she had them enraptured.  “We shattered all the rules, ran free!  We tore down every wall, and we answered the call of the sea!”

 

Her father stood and began walking towards her, joining in the dance.  She turned to face him, and her chest swelled with the look of pride on his face.  She sang, “We used to sail with gods – we were unstoppable!  To islands we could go explore!  With every breaking dawn, our adventures would go on beyond the shore!”

 

Tui took over then, turning to their people and reminding them of the history they had lost, shut up so many generations ago in the cave: “Maui taught us how to see the waves!  Maui taught us how the sea behaves!  Maui taught us how to see the skies – how to see the way the seagull flies!”  His movements were sure, steady, commanding – he had their full attention.  He was their Chief, and this was their history.  Their legacy.  “Maui taught us how the stars can guide us, the secrets that the ocean can provide us!  How to see our way through the wind and rain and know the way back home is there inside us!”

 

He turned back to Moana, and she stepped forward once more to continue: “We ran the world – we were unstoppable!  We learned to sail the seas alone!  With every escapade, we were brave and unafraid of the unknown!”  She saw the men approaching, their steps steady and sure as they prepared to continue the next part of the tale.  It had been her father’s idea, as well, to incorporate the haka.  “We gathered up our strength – we were unstoppable!  We chased the long horizon line!  We faced tremendous odds, but we rumbled with the gods – and we were fine!”

 

She moved out of the way with the other dancers and her father, and the men began: “Hey, master of disguise!  He could assume any form, any shape or size!  He used to fight fantastic monsters, take ‘em by surprise!”

 

To her delight, their people joined in the response:  “Hey, master of disguise!  He could assume any form, any shape or size!  He used to fight fantastic monsters, take ‘em by surprise!”

 

“Until the fateful night!” Moana called, drawing the attention back to her as she moved in front of the men.  “The only time he ever lost a fight!  A thousand years ago, against a demon named…”

 

“Te Ka…” the men chanted, and her eyes closed.  She remembered the heat, the fear as the lava monster raced towards her.  The look on Maui’s face as he stood there powerless, terrified the mistakes of his past were about to repeat themselves…  “…Te Ka…Te Ka…Te Ka!”

 

“Te Ka was a brutal lava spirit, a curse placed upon Te Fiti upon the removal of her heart,” Moana said, stepping closer to the bonfire so everyone could clearly see her face.  She looked around, her hand reaching up to touch the shell of her necklace.  “Legend says she defeated Maui, knocking him from the sky to be lost, powerless, at sea.  And with the curse of Te Ka, the disappearance of Maui, came the end of our voyages.  The sea was no longer safe to sail, no longer our friend!”

 

Her eyes closed, and she bowed her head.  Voice thick, she continued, “The horrible curse, Te Ka, did the impossible.  And Maui, just like that, was gone.  Our demigod, our friend, fought for us until the end – but he lives on!”

 

It was time.  She would tell them of Maui, of restoring the heart, of the sea…and they would voyage again.  They would understand.  They would remember who they were a thousand years ago.  They would –

 

“For a thousand years we’ve made Motunui our home,” her father cut in, stepping before her to address the people.  Her head snapped up, eyes wide as he improvised the next bit of her song.  This was not in the rehearsal!  “But there can be a new Maui, a new generation!”

 

“Wait, what?” she asked, racing forward to grab his arm.  He paused, his head turned towards her and both eyebrows raised in a question, but it didn’t matter.  That was not what she had meant at all!  “No, no, no!  There can’t be a new Maui!  Are you insane?”

 

His eyebrows, if possible, soared higher.  Realizing what she had just asked her father – her Chief, in front of their entire village – she took a step back and laughed nervously.  Her hand automatically came up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous tick she had had since childhood.

 

“What I mean is…we don’t need a new Maui!  Maui isn’t dead!  And besides, how can you replace _Maui?_   He’s like…he’s just…I mean, come on!” she cried.  She realized she was rambling, that she sounded ridiculous and so unlike the chief she had been raised to be, but how did you even begin to describe Maui?  He was so much more than just a demigod, and definitely not someone that could be easily replaced.  Didn’t her father see that?  ( _No, of course not,_ the traitorous voice in her mind hissed, _because Chief Tui has never seen him_.)  She sighed and closed her eyes, taking one more steadying breath before she looked back to her people.  “I have met Maui!  I sailed beyond the reef, I found him marooned on a barren island and journeyed with him to Lalotai to retrieve his magical fishhook!  Maui taught me how to sail, how to navigate the seas – it’s called wayfinding, what he taught our people all those years ago!  We defeated Te Ka and restored the heart of Te Fiti!  The seas are once again safe, and I can teach you everything he has taught me!”

 

The drums began again, and she squared herself against the murmurs of her people before she sang, “I am Moana – I am unstoppable!  I know how big the world can be!  What Maui taught is true – we can sail across the blue, unending sea!”

 

The murmurs were growing, and the look of warning was disappearing from Chief Tui’s face.  He was smiling at her again, that proud spark back in his eyes as she twirled and opened her arms to all of Motunui.  Her voice was strong and clear as she called, “We’re ready for what’s next – we are unstoppable!  We want to see the world beyond the shore!  For Maui years ago taught us everything we know, so let’s explore!”

 

The other dancers began chanting ( _“We want more…we want more…”_ ) as she looked around at her people.  The excitement was back on their faces, sparking with every leap of the bonfire in their eyes.  And she knew, looking over them all, that she had done it.  They would go with her.  They would return to the sea, as they were always meant to.  A cry raised in her, the sheer swell of joy and emotion rising until she pounded her fists towards the sky, standing tall as she cried with the final beat of the drum: “Unstoppable!”

 

Her people were silent.  She heard the murmurs, the hushed uncertainty that – despite how eager they had seemed – told that they were still unsure how to react to her boldness.  Her fists clenched, her eyes squeezed just a bit tighter, and she waited.  Someone needed to speak up.  Someone, anyone, some –

 

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh Moana you’re so amaziiiiiiiiiiiiiing!”

 

Her head snapped down, her eyes popping open as she scanned the crowd for the voice.  She didn’t have to look hard: a boy had leapt up and was jumping around, cheering amid the other village children.  It was the encouragement the others needed, however, and soon they were all cheering.  Thunderous applause, hoots and hollers surrounded her.  She could hear some of them shouting: “To the sea!”  “Let’s explore!”  “Teach us, Moana!”  But amid the chaos, the excitement, the boy had calmed – and was grinning at her with a look that definitely didn’t belong on a face that young.  Her father had clasped a hand on her shoulder and was busy congratulating her, but she slipped away from him and went over to the boy.  She crouched down before him and rested her arms on her knees.

 

Moana knew every child on her island.  She had taught most of them, helping with the instruction of their dances and filling in for Gramma Tala when she had been too tired to weave her tales.  She knew every child of Motunui, and this boy was not one of them.

 

“Who are you?” she asked him.  A familiar, mischievous glint danced in his eyes, but he only smiled at her.

 

“What are you talking about, Moana?  You know me!” he said.  He pointed at his chest, his grin nearly splitting his face.  “I’m Bob!”

 

…Bob.

 

Bob.

 

What the heck was a ‘Bob’?

 

Something Heihei did on a daily basis, that’s what – it wasn’t a name.  Boys weren’t ‘Bob’s.  Boys were…

 

“Bob,” she said, just to clarify, and he nodded proudly as he continued to grin at her.

 

“Yep, Bob!” he chirped.

 

“That’s…an interesting name,” she said uneasily.  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.  Y’know.  As a name.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” he said flippantly, waving a hand at her.  “My parents were very progressive.  Trust me, the name’s gonna catch on.  It’ll be big.”

 

“Right,” Moana said.  She wasn’t exactly convinced of that.  “So…who are you again?”

 

“Mo, come on!  I’m _Bob_!” he whined.  She quirked an eyebrow at the nickname.  There was only one person she knew comfortable (flippant, irreverent) enough to call her _Mo_.  The boy who had been cheering next to him, Manu, gave her an exasperated look.  Now Manu she knew.  Manu was notorious on the island, between his pranks, shenanigans, improvised dancing, and saucy winks.  Manu was what Gramma Tala used to call a ‘right little terror’.

 

“Moana, it’s Bob!  You were at sea too long – how do you not remember Bob?” he asked.  So, of course, if Manu was going to vouch for him, that had to mean trouble.  Moana’s eyes narrowed at the blue spark that danced through Manu’s eyes – a very familiar blue spark, almost as painfully familiar as the look ‘Bob’ kept giving her – before she looked back to the unknown child.  “He’s the greatest!”

 

“I’m sure,” she said.  She grabbed Bob’s ear, making him yelp, and stood.  “Right!  You’re coming with me!”

 

Tui had turned to her in all the excitement, and he frowned as he watched her drag the boy away from the bonfire – towards the sea.  He called after her, asking if everything was all right, but she just waved him off and assured him that everything was fine.  In the end, Moana had pulled the boy all the way past where Gramma Tala used to dance with her manta rays, far enough away that the others in the village couldn’t see.  She released his ear and turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest.

 

“So,” she started, cocking an eyebrow at him as he sullenly rubbed his ear.  “Bob.”

 

“What is it with you and ears?” the boy grumbled.  She stood her ground, refusing to budge an inch.  He frowned up at her and clasped his hands in front of him, swaying side to side and playing the cute-and-innocent card (almost) perfectly.  “What, you really don’t remember me, Moana?  I think you might’ve hit your head out there.”

 

“Oh, I think I remember you,” she said.  She leaned closer and poked him in the chest.  “But not as a little boy named ‘Bob’ from Motunui.  ‘Bob’ is a ridiculous name, by the way.  It’s not even a name.”

 

He grinned at her, that light dancing in his eyes again, and with a flash of blue light Maui was standing before her, tattoos, fish hook, and all.  He grinned and spun his hook, placing it on a shoulder while his other hand came to rest on his hip.  He oozed ego and confidence – so, really, nothing had changed since he left her those few months ago.  Her smile softened as she stood, arms once again folding over her chest.

 

“I thought you didn’t want to come back to Motunui with me?” she asked.  “Something about them already having a master wayfinder?”

 

“Yeah, well, you know,” he said, shrugging slightly.  “Big world and all, lots to catch up on – but it got a little boring without…well.”

 

“I missed you, too, Maui,” she said.  He chuckled as she rushed at him, and he dropped his hook to catch her hug.  She pulled back quickly, though, and punched his chest.  Mini Maui jumped, dodging out of the way just in time.  He peeked out from behind a mountain, shaking, as Maui yelped.  “What was that back there?  I thought you only turned into animals!”

 

“What was it you said in your lovely little song?  ‘Master of disguise, he could assume any form, any shape or size’?” he asked, winking at her.  “Hey, what can I say?  I’m a trickster.  I can look like another human if I need to.”

 

He grabbed for his hook, swinging it again, and after the flash of light cleared ‘Bob’ stood before her again.

 

“Besides,” he said, “aren’t I adorable?”

 

Well, that was certainly one word for it.

 

She laughed and shook her head, reaching out to ruffle the hair that still managed to be absolute perfection, even on a pint-sized human.  He grinned up at her as she knelt beside him.

 

“You should come see everyone.  Enjoy the feast,” she said.  She cocked an eyebrow at him, and the grin turned a bit sheepish.  “Without the disguise.  What gives, anyway?  I get that you’re a trickster, but I would’ve liked to introduce my friend to my parents.”

 

He shifted back to his usual form, plopping down to sit on the beach.  She sat down beside him and waited for an answer he seemed unsure of giving.  After another moment, he looked out to the sea and asked her, “Do you remember what you told me when we first met?”

 

“…um,” she replied eloquently, and when he looked back to her she shrugged.  “I am Moana of Motunui, and you will board my boat?”

 

He blinked at her before he started laughing.  He shook his head, rolling his eyes at her before he said, “Well, yeah, but I meant _after_ that.  You told me I was nobody’s hero.”

 

“Actually, I believe I said you weren’t _my_ hero,” she quipped, and he rolled his eyes again.

 

“Nuance.  Point is, you were right.  I…I screwed up the world pretty bad, and…well, people remember that sort of thing,” he said.  She frowned as he glanced back to the village.

 

“You were afraid they wouldn’t welcome you,” she said.  It wasn’t really a question, and he didn’t really confirm it – but he didn’t deny it, either.  She sighed and leaned against him.  “Maui, you messed up, yes.  But you’re still _Maui_.  You wouldn’t be the first person on this island to make a mistake.”

 

“Yeah, but I doubt their mistakes typically result in a curse that could snuff out the world,” he groused, and she nudged him.

 

“They’ll be excited to see you,” she said, “aaaaand it might help persuade them to come with me to sea.  Y’know  If our patron demigod is with us.”

 

“Pffft, you don’t need me,” he chided her.  He was looking at her again with that smile that made her stomach do flips, the one that was all pride and warm affection.  Her face felt warmer, and she ducked her head to hide it – hopefully before he noticed.  “I told you: Motunui already has a master wayfinder.  Buuuut I did miss you, Curly, and that pork did smell divine, soooo…ok.  I’ll come back with you.”

 

“And not as Bob?” she asked, peeking up at him from under her lashes.  He chuckled and nodded, standing before offering a hand and pulling her up.

 

“Not as Bob,” he agreed.  They started walking back towards the feast, an amicable silence falling between them.  “I really did like the song, though.  You’re right up there with Tamatoa in the presentation department.”

 

“Shut up,” she laughed, reaching up to half-heartedly cuff his shoulder.  He chuckled, making a show of rubbing his arm like she had actually hurt him.  “But thank you.  I’m glad Bob liked it.  Seriously, though.  _Bob?_ ”

 

“Hey, it’s gonna be a great name!  I like Bob!” he said.  She sighed as the feast came into view.  She could see her father by the edge of the clearing, speaking to one of the elders.  He looked up, and his eyes widened noticeably as he saw the towering man she was bringing back from the ocean.  She slapped on her brightest smile and glanced up at Maui.

 

“Come on, _Bob_ ,” she said, grabbing his arm with both of her own.  “I want to introduce you to my father.”

 

Glancing up at the chief, Moana observed that he _almost_ looked scared.  He gave a nervous swallow and nodded, allowing her to drag him along.  “Yippee.”


End file.
